


Somnus Interruptus

by KaliopeShipsIt



Series: Alliteration-Verse [16]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Colicky Babies, Derek and Stiles are Mates, Domestic Derek and Stiles, Family Feels, Kid Fic, M/M, Post Derek Mpreg, Post-Mpreg, Twins, alternative universe, original kid characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 23:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3400511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaliopeShipsIt/pseuds/KaliopeShipsIt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles' almost four months old twins make a pact with the Colic-Demon and sleep has never sounded like a better idea in the Hale-Stilinski house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somnus Interruptus

**Author's Note:**

> Please do not put my stuff on Goodreads. I was not aware that part of my stories were on there and I am not comfortable with having my fan fics circulated out of my control. 
> 
>  
> 
> Welcome back to the Alliteration Verse, dear readers! I had originally decided to make "The One With Leonie's First Date" (a working title btw) the next chronological story (where the twins would be about 3), but after I got some requests to write a story while the twins are still babies, I couldn't pass up on the opportunity.
> 
> I hope you will enjoy this new installment and to anyone who hasn't read my verse yet, welcome! This story could technically be read as a stand-alone but I tend to refer to older stories quite a bit and use some story-lines as a red-threat, so if you are inclined to read the rest of my verse (which I of course hope you will!) I would advise starting with Part 1 (mutters "Spoilers, Sweetie!" in best River Song impression).

It was the night of the full moon, just after midnight, making it exactly two weeks away from Christmas and _all_ inhabitants of the Hale-Stilinski residence had been blissfully asleep for over an hour.

At 1:45 AM, just two minutes shy of actually making it a full two hours of uninterrupted sleep, the silence was shattered by a piercing wail, which was quickly followed by a second.

Twenty seconds later an overtired werewolf got out of bed, shuffling towards the crib on the right and picking up the baby, which was howling as if someone was tearing off her tiny limbs.

Ten seconds later a barely coherent human picked up the baby from the crib on the left, patting her back helplessly and staring at his mate over the top of her head, wordlessly nodding towards the door.

Exactly thirty seconds later said door opened and a little five-year old boy walked inside his fathers’ bedroom, hair tussled in every direction and eyes barely open.

“Go back to sleep Cas,” Derek sighed, shifting Maggie to his other shoulder and rubbing her back.

Cas shook his head, his eyes still half-closed and his expression very unhappy and Derek shared a resigned look with Stiles, who had sat down on the bed and laid Kara on her back, massaging her little tummy in hopes to quiet her down.

“It’s just colic,” Melissa had said two months ago, flinching when Stiles had mouthed “ _Just_ ” in despair.

“It’ll get better by the time they are four or five months old,” Scott, who had gotten plenty of colic experience with his daughter Ellie, had contributed, trying to be helpful and sighing when Stiles had dropped his head on the table with a loud bang.

“You’ll just have to try different things,” the Sheriff had suggested, though he had politely refused when Stiles had asked if one of these things could be baby-sitting over night.

“I wasn’t even aware werewolf babies could have colic at all,” Deaton had wondered out loud and Derek, exhausted and on edge because of the constant screaming, had gotten up and left the room, not in the mood to burst into tears in front of his entire family because he had really missed his mother, who probably would have known if it was actually normal for Kara to have colic as well.

The truth was, Derek didn’t think Kara had colic at all and neither did Stiles.

“It’s sympathy colic, that’s what it is,” his mate had said after that first week of double dosages of three, four, sometimes more than five hours of non-stop screaming, his eyes so puffy from lack of sleep that Derek had wondered if they would ever go back to normal.

“Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s all kinds of adorable that they have a twin bond and I am ecstatic that they’ll probably grow up to be best friends rather than tear the house down in teenage angst, but for the love of all that is holy, did they have to bond over _this_ , too?”

Derek had sighed, muffling a groan into the pillow when Kara hat started screaming again, as if on cue, hoping that at least their werewolf baby would realize soon that werewolves actually didn’t have colic – probably – and calm down.

Two months later his entire family was slowly but surely going insane.

Leonie had been weepy and easy to aggravate for weeks, her werewolf hearing making it impossible for her to sleep through the crying and it was getting to be quite difficult to actually wake her up in the mornings for school, a problem they hadn’t had with her since her kindergarten days.

Noah was even quieter than usual, leaving the room whenever the babies started screaming and neither Derek nor Stiles were quite sure if he felt that his added presence would create even more stress for his parents or if he just didn’t want to hear the babies’ discomfort.

The Sheriff had argued for the latter but Stiles, who knew his kid after living with him for almost nine years now, had a sinking suspicious that their son, the only one of their children who had gotten sick and worried his parents on a regular basis until Maggie had come along and added to the human quota in the family, was actually starting to see himself as a burden.

Meanwhile, Cas had turned into a destructive force.

At five years old Cas, a werewolf through and through, his instincts sharper and more attuned to their pack than any werewolf child Derek had ever met, including himself, was finding it completely impossible to stay away when his sisters were screaming, the pack instinct urging him to scent them, calm them, help them with his presence.

Telling him to go back to bed worked every once in a while but most of the time Cas got very upset when he wasn’t allowed to be near the babies during a colicky phase and Derek and Stiles had eventually relented, figuring that since he wasn’t getting sleep anyways he might as well be in the room with them.

As a result, Cas was almost unable to sit still during the day; his lack of sleep translating to unprecedented levels of energy and Stiles had started to tape the complaint-letters from kindergarten to the fridge in a show of defiant solidarity.

Their younger son had broken three vases, two plates, five glasses and the living room window during the last eight weeks alone, always on accident and always without warning and when the window had shattered he had gotten so scared that he had burst into tears, making it impossible for Stiles, who had nearly stepped into the debris as he had rushed in from the nursery, to get mad at him.

The experiment of outsourcing Cas and Noah to the Sheriff and Melissa’s house for the weekend so they could catch up on their sleep had been spectacularly unsuccessful, as Cas, who usually lived for sleepovers with his grandparents, had developed an unprecedented bout of homesickness that had been so severe Stiles had been forced to come ‘rescue’ their boys in the middle of the second night.

Sadly, Derek and Stiles had so far failed to come up with a foolproof method to ‘rescue’ their twin babies – and everyone’s combined sanity – from the constant screaming.

Sometimes a warm water bottle against her belly was able to calm Kara long enough until she fell asleep, having exhausted herself from crying. Other times she literally started howling when Stiles pressed the bottle against her skin for even a second.

Maggie was more sensitive to gentle motion than her sister and Derek had spent more than a few very long nights walking through the entire lower floor of the house with her, gently rubbing her back and whispering to her until she was no longer crying but hiccupping quietly, her tear-streaked face pressed against the crook of his neck.

Then there were the nights that were so long that Derek could actually see the sun come up on the horizon, swaying on his feet almost as if on autopilot, his crying daughter tucked against his chest and both of them feeling miserable.

During the day Derek sometimes went outside with Kara, making use of his werewolf baby’s higher body temperature to guard her against the increasingly chilly temperatures as he carried her around the garden, the smell of fall every now and then enough to distract her.

Maggie, meanwhile, could occasionally be soothed by the noises of the dryer, her eyes wide and her toothless mouth grinning as she sat in her rocker. If Noah was home from school he often sat down with her during these times, gently bouncing the rocker and playing with her feet.

Maggie’s first actual laugh had occurred during the delicates cycle last week and Stiles, who had been watching his two human children beaming at each other from the doorway, had attributed the tears in his eyes to his exhaustion.

Kara on the other hand hated the dryer, the loud noise too much for her sensitive werewolf hearing to handle and on the nights when Derek took Maggie onto extended tours of their property Stiles sometimes laid down on the bed with his werewolf baby, draping her over his chest and breathing as calmly as possible, allowing her to scent him and bask in the hushed atmosphere of the room.

Baths were a hit or miss with both babies, and on the rare occasions that they both calmed down while splashing in the warm water Stiles had gotten some pretty adorable pictures.

Derek was also pretty confident that Kara, much like Noah, loved tummy massages, and he had actually managed to watch an hour-long news broadcast the other day, his attention divided between the speaker on screen and his daughter, who had been lying belly-up on a pillow propped on his legs, giving him easy access to gently work his fingers.

Maggie, meanwhile, had moments when the only thing that could calm her down was being swaddled as tightly as possible and if she fell asleep like that she usually stayed asleep for almost four hours at least.

The problem with all of these methods was, however, that their success rate was random and completely unpredictable.

There were nights when Kara rejected the water bottle, pushed her tiny fists against Derek’s fingers when he tried to massage her tension away, and filled their bedroom with hours of upset crying, only to promptly fall asleep the moment Derek walked outside with her at six in the morning to let out their dog.

Maggie, meanwhile, had spent more hours of her life looking like the world’s most upset burrito than her fathers were willing to admit, sometimes crying straight through five hours of uninterrupted walking, swaddling, and an empty dryer cycle turned on at 4 in the morning.

Every bout of colic seemed to have different rules and during one particularly loud morning Derek had turned to Stiles all of a sudden and started laughing hysterically, his broad frame shaking as tears had begun to pool in his eyes.

Stiles, who had been in the process of massaging Kara’s tummy, had looked at his mate in alarm and Derek, who had just put down a swaddled Maggie onto a blanket, had gasped, “Can you even imagine what would have happened if you hadn’t been able to take six months of paternity leave? I would have gone _insane_!” before collapsing onto the couch with another bout of manic laughter, the glint in his eyes making Stiles wonder for the briefest of moments if the bearded love of his life had _already_ gone completely insane.

As they looked at their younger son curling up on the bed now, his thumb stuck in his mouth and the other hand gently patting Kara, who was lying next to him, Stiles once again thanked the lords of Kobol and whoever else was listening that his job situation actually afforded him this luxury, well aware that this certainly wasn’t the norm in their country.

Kara was responding to her brother’s presence for once, her cries growing quieter with each passing second and as much as it made him feel like a horrible parent Stiles was ready to admit that he much preferred an overtired, hyper-active little werewolf during the day to a non-stop howling baby werewolf at night.

As Maggie began to quiet down as well Derek exhaled shakily, once again sharing a look with Stiles, who looked as cautiously optimistic as Derek felt.

They had been comforting the twins for a little over half an hour now and with both girls showing signs of falling back asleep it looked like tonight’s bout of crying was just a normal night in the life of a three and a half months old baby.

When first Maggie and then Kara’s breathing evened out Derek felt like he wanted to cry in relief, carefully placing his human daughter back in her crib while Stiles tiptoed over to the left side of the room with Kara.

Cas had passed out right along with his sisters and when Derek went to pick him up and carry him back to his bed Stiles shook his head, collapsing on his side of the bed with a soft sigh and draping a protective arm over their younger son’s waist.

Derek shrugged, getting onto the bed himself and pressing a soft kiss to Cas’ tussled hair, then leaning over to kiss Stiles’ temple, rolling onto his side himself and gently resting his hand on Cas’ free hand, which was balled into a relaxed fist.

For the first time in almost three weeks the babies slept five hours in a row and by the time Leonie took a picture of all three Hale-Stilinskis sleeping like logs at 7 in the morning, Derek’s hand was wrapped firmly around Cas’ tiny fist and Stiles had somehow starfished himself out in a way that allowed him to wrap his arm around both Cas and Derek, the three of them dead to the world and drooling in their sleep.

It turned out to be one of Stiles’ favorite family pictures.

 

 

==================

 

_Crash!_

“Jonathan Castiel Hale!” Derek barked, torn between amusement, anger, and resignation as Maggie, who had been suckling on her bottle, began to giggle around the mouthpiece at the look on her father’s face and Cas looked as startled as a bunny who’d just been shot at.

“Don’t laugh at your Papa while you’re eating, it’s impolite and rude and you’ll get gas and then _no one_ is going to be happy,” Derek admonished his baby girl, coaxing her into concentrating on her milk again and throwing a grateful look at Stiles, who had hurried into the living room with Kara strapped to his belly in a baby-sling.

“What … oh … oh man, little dude, did it absolutely _have_ to be Grandma Stilinski’s gravy-boat?”

Cas was twiddling his fingers, his ears red as he looked up at his annoyed father from under his already impressive eyebrows and Stiles sighed.

“Were you playing with that?” he asked pointedly and Cas nodded guiltily, mumbling something about wanting to see if the _boat_ could actually swim and Stiles, who was well aware that he himself would probably have done that experiment, sighed once more.

“We’ve told you before young man, no playing with the porcelain dishes! Do you remember that?” he asked sternly and Cas nodded, looking even guiltier.

“I’m sorry Daddy,” he mumbled and Stiles scratched his temple.

“Thank you for saying you’re sorry Cas, Daddy really appreciates it, but that was Daddy’s grandma’s gravy-boat and she’d be very angry with Daddy if she knew it got broken, so you young man are going to have to go into time-out.”

Cas’ lips wobbled but he nodded, looking like he was about to step over the shards to make his way to the corner of the room and Derek quickly yelled, “Wait!” adjusting his hold on Maggie as he got up and hoisted Cas into the air with his other arm, shaking his head at his younger son’s complete disregard for his own safety as he gently deposited him in the corner.

“Ten minutes?” he asked, looking at Stiles for confirmation and Stiles, who was eyeing the smashed gravy boat with a look of consternation, mouthed, “Five,” at him, an amused smile growing on his face.

After he had placed Maggie in her rocker Derek quickly swept up the floor before making Spaghetti Bolognaise for dinner and the sudden demise of the Stilinski family heirloom was almost forgotten by the time the older children were lounging on the couch to watch some cartoons.

Derek has just sunken into the armchair, paying very little attention to the television and occasionally glancing over to the baby monitor, when Stiles gently nudged against his shoulder, motioning for him to move to the side so he could crawl into the chair as well.

It was a tight fit but they had made it work before - many times and in several different positions, albeit without their tiny audience.

“Listen Derek, I was thinking,” Stiles began softly, speaking quietly so he wouldn’t disturb their children’s allotted TV-time.

“It would mean some driving around for you once I go back to work fulltime and if you think it’s too much you can say ‘no’, but what are your feelings on signing Cas up for Pee Wee Lacrosse?”

Derek looked at him in surprise, clearly not having expected that train of thought.

“Did he express an interest?” he asked and Stiles shook his head.

“Nope, but we are running out of breakable stuff and I really think the kid needs an outlet. Besides, I’d like to have a little lacrosse player in the family, now that I’ve clearly lost Leo-Pie to the swim team for life. Noah has never shown an interest either, so I figured we could hit two flies with one stone: make Daddy proud _and_ save his family heirlooms.”

Derek nodded slowly, looking over to Cas, who was mostly enraptured by the cartoon but whose feet were twitching constantly.

“Do they even have tryouts at this time of year?” he asked and Stiles grinned.

“For Pee Wee Lacrosse they don’t really do tryouts, I’ll just take him to the field Friday afternoon and if the weather is ok he can see if he likes it. Most of these kids are between six and eight years old, so he’s maybe a bit young but I figure his werewolf skills will make up for it.”

He sighed contentedly, snuggling against Derek and closing his eyes, clearly ready to pass out now that the decision had been made.

Derek pulled him a bit closer, enjoying the intimacy they hardly ever got to share these days and because his senses were filled with Stiles’ relief and happiness he almost missed the sharp tang of hurt that suddenly burst off of Noah.

He looked up quickly, but Noah seemed to be just fine, his attention fully devoted to the television.

Shrugging, Derek decided to let it go for now, closing his eyes as well and resting his head on top of Stiles’.

Sleep was a precious commodity these days and neither Stiles nor Derek were inclined to waste even one second.

 

======================

 

The night before the tryouts was a bad one.

Maggie had started screaming bloody murder in the afternoon and not a single one of the tricks that normally worked on her had succeeded in calming her down.

Stiles had taken Kara for a two hour long run in the jogging stroller, returning just before dinner because it was still Beacon Hills and he wasn’t too comfortable running around on the trails in the preserves with a baby after dark.

Kara had started to scream within five minutes after their return, solidifying Stiles’ theory that their youngest was suffering from psychosomatic sympathy twin colic, and dinner had been a couple of sandwiches courtesy of Leonie, while her fathers had tried to ease the babies’ discomfort.

His nerves obviously frayed after three hours of uninterrupted crying in the house, Cas, who normally wasn’t a picky eater, had burst into his version of what Stiles liked to call ‘big fat werewolf tears’ because Leonie had forgotten to cut off the crusts in her haste.

Leonie, who had adored her youngest brother ever since she had played such an important role in his birth, had snapped at him angrily, looking shell-shocked at herself instantly before storming out of the room.

Their daughter had been acting off for three days now, even more so than her usual teenage angst, and neither father had any idea what was going on.

Noah, meanwhile, hadn’t said anything throughout the entire dinner, had in fact barely spoken to Stiles and Derek for two days and spent more time than usual in his room playing with jigsaw puzzles.

He hadn’t even kept Maggie company in front of the dyer earlier that afternoon, and it was this more than anything else that had Stiles beginning to really worry about him.

Not that there was anything he could do about it right now, as he climbed the stairs up and down with Maggie, alternating between rubbing her back and bouncing her.

Maggie’s cries were downright heartbreaking and when he got back downstairs Stiles briefly wondered if his daughter would mind terribly much if he just sat down with her on the carpet and started crying, too.

Derek, meanwhile, was increasingly getting desperate as he massaged Kara’s tummy, his face almost as sweaty as their howling daughter’s.

Cas was still crying over his sandwich and what he clearly perceived to be Leonie’s betrayal and so Stiles walked up to Leonie’s room, banging on her door with his free hand to be heard over Maggie’s siren-like wailing.

“Leonie! I don’t even care what crawled up your behind, I need you to go apologize to your brother _right now_. If one more child cries in this house Daddy’s going to go _insane_!” he yelled and when Leonie yanked open the door her face was glistening with tears.

Stiles let out a laugh that was really more a sob, shifting Maggie to his shoulder and pulling his oldest into a hug.

“Sweetie Pie, what is the matter with you?” he asked, an edge of despair creeping into his voice and Leonie muttered something into his shirt before she burst into sobs.

Looking between his sobbing daughters Stiles sighed deeply, trying to tune out Maggie as best as he could for now and focusing on the crisis at hand that could actually be verbally communicated.

“What did you say Leo-Pie?” he asked and when Leonie gazed up at him she looked equal parts guilty, heartbroken, and mortified.

“I got Saturday detention,” she whispered into his ear before sobbing again and Stiles, who had been expecting anything ranging from boy trouble to abandonment issues, blinked.

“Detention? For what?” he asked slowly and Leonie wiped her face furiously, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“I fell asleep in Mr. Perinelli’s class,” she muttered, sounding so utterly yet adorably heartbroken over the silly matter that Stiles barely managed to keep himself from laughing.

“Leo-Pie,” he breathed, smacking a kiss against her temple and smiling encouragingly.

“I spent _half_ of my high school career with Mr. Harris in detention and trust me, my offences were usually much more outrageous than falling asleep in class.”

He chuckled, reminiscing for a moment before sobering and looking at his daughter.

“Did you really think Papa and me would get so angry with you that you couldn’t tell us?” he asked hesitantly and Leonie bit her lip, looking even guiltier when she shook her head.

“It’s just … I am _so_ embarrassed Daddy,” she whispered and Stiles had to strain to hear her over the sound of Maggie’s cries.

Stiles’ shoulders slumped in relief – a bit of hurt teenage pride was certainly easier to fix than a lack of trust in parental figures.

“Leo-Pie, I got detention so many times my sophomore year alone I practically lived in the library. I could have written sonnets about Mr. Harris’ nose hair, that’s how much time I had to study every single one of them. If you want I can talk to that teacher of yours and explain to him that with two colicky babies at home sleep is sometimes a little hard to come by, but seriously, it’s really not that big of a deal. In all honesty, we can probably call Saturday detention a Stilinski Right of Passage at this point. Don’t make a habit out of it, _obviously_ , but seriously Leonie, there are many truly bad things in this world and detention is definitely not on the list.”

He gave her an encouraging smile, noting happily that Leonie was smiling back at him ever so slightly and when she slung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek Stiles, despite still going deaf in his left ear courtesy of Maggie, felt decidedly accomplished.

“Are you going to go and apologize to your brother now?” he asked her, shaking his head when Leonie practically flew down the stairs to right her wrong.

“One crisis solved, four more to go,” Stiles whispered into his mate’s ear as he walked past him in the living room, intent on trying the dryer again just in case Maggie had changed her mind in the past two hours.

Derek, who looked more stressed than he had in a while, gazed towards the table, where Leonie had swept Cas into her arms and was kissing his head over and over, their younger son’s arms slung around his sister’s neck.

Smiling, Derek thought that Cas’ relative inability to hold grudges was probably one of his favorite qualities of their third child.

“Noah-Boa?” he called out, hoping to follow Stiles’ lead and solving another parenting crisis while they were at it and Noah dropped the crust of his sandwich onto the plate before shuffling over, his face still uncharacteristically distant.

“Can you help me with Kara? I need someone to watch her while I eat my own sandwich,” he asked and Noah nodded, barely looking at Derek when he sat down cross-legged on the plushy carpet and stroked the fine hair on Kara’s head.

Whatever was bothering their son, feeling useless apparently wasn’t it.

 

====================

 

Two hours later Leonie volunteered to read Cas a bedtime story and when it was Noah’s bed-time half an hour later Derek was grateful that his oldest was also willing to help out with Kara, whose screams had turned slightly hoarse at this point.

Leaving his werewolf girls to the possible delights of a warm water bottle, Derek made his way to Noah’s bedroom, passing by the bathroom where Stiles was currently trying to bathe Maggie to sleep.

“Can I come in Noah-Boa?” Derek asked gently and Noah huffed out a quiet ‘Yes’, his voice muffled.

Derek slowly opened the door and walked towards his son’s bed, sitting down on the edge and taking the time to smooth down the astronaut cover before he gently ran his hand through Noah’s hazelnut brown hair.

He lightly tapped against his son’s left ear, which was the only part of his face that was currently visible and not pushed into the pillow.

“Can you tell me why you are so upset with Daddy and me?” he asked gently, having decided that being straightforward here was probably the best approach.

Noah made a soft sound of disapproval.

“M’not mad at you Papa. Not mad at Daddy either,” he muttered and Derek wouldn’t have needed to be a werewolf to catch on to the fact that his son was fudging the truth just a tiny bit.

“Did we do anything? I know things aren’t so easy at the moment but it’ll get better when your sisters get a bit older, I promise.”

Noah shook his head, looking up at his father with an almost reproachful expression.

“I’m not blaming the _babies_ Papa,” he said and Derek cocked his head to the side, studying his son’s face intently.

“Did we say something to you to make you feel sad? I’m sorry if we did, but I can’t make it better if you don’t tell me what is wrong.”

Noah bit his lip, worrying it under the bunny-like teeth he had inherited from Derek.

“No Papa … I mean … no, you didn’t say _anything_.”

Derek raised his eyebrows when he caught the emphasis.

“Is there perhaps something you _wanted_ us to say?” he asked, taking a stab into the dark and feeling relieved to have figured out part of it when Noah nodded reluctantly.

“But you don’t want to tell me what it was?” he continued and now his son looked decidedly conflicted.

Derek himself had always found it easiest to have difficult conversations in the dark, using it to protect himself against looks of anger, sadness, or even pity as he struggled for words.

It had been one of the biggest concessions he had had to make to Stiles in their many years together, as his mate insisted on eye-contact during arguments, claiming it was sometimes the only way he could read any sense into Derek’s monosyllabic mutterings.

As he looked at Noah struggling for words, Derek wondered if his poor child had inherited this particular character trait.

Once again acting on instinct he turned off the light on Noah’s bedside table, gently nudging his son to scoot over and when he laid on his back Noah hesitated only briefly before he buried his face against Derek’s chest.

Derek breathed calmly, carding his fingers through Noah’s hair and trying to be patient.

After what seemed like ages but had in all fairness been less than three minutes, Noah let out a sigh much too heavy for his almost nine years.

“Why can’t _I_ make Daddy proud, too?” he whispered and Derek’s hand stilled.

“ _What_? Of course you make Daddy proud, you make both of us proud every day!” he said quickly and Noah shook his head.

“No Papa … I mean, why can’t I make _Daddy_ proud? Why does it have to be Cas, why can’t I do it, too?”

Derek turned his head towards him, utterly confused.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m sorry, but I really don’t.”

“Why didn’t Daddy ask _me_ if I wanted to play lacrosse? Why can’t I be the little lacrosse player, too? I know Cas is faster and catches things better, but I’m fast, too, Papa!” he finally burst out and the pain in his voice made Derek cringe.

“Noah … Daddy said you aren’t interested in lacrosse, where is this coming from?” he stammered helplessly and Noah’s fingers clenched on Derek’s shirt.

“Daddy always tells you he’s glad I don’t play any sports, especially after I broke my arm. _You_ agreed, Papa! You don’t think I can do it because I’m not a werewolf and can’t heal but Daddy isn’t a werewolf either and _he_ played!”

When Derek resolutely turned on the light and gently directed Noah to look at him, the expression on the werewolf’s face was stricken.

 “How long have you … when did you even … Noah, son, I am _so_ sorry! Daddy would never think you aren’t capable because you’re human and neither would I! If we had known you were interested in lacrosse we would have taken you to play a long time ago, I promise!”

Noah sighed, rubbing at his eyes.

“I didn’t know I wanted to play Papa, at least not until this summer when Grandpa took us to see the high school kids play. I wanted to ask you then but then Grandpa got sick and then the babies were born and everyone was so _scared_ and then they started screaming all the time and I just …”

He trailed off, but Derek had gotten the gist just fine.

“Babies need their parents a little more than the older kids when they are so tiny, but that doesn’t mean the older kids don’t need them, too. I love you so much for trying to help us by making us think you don’t need us to worry about you, but if you do you’ll end up getting upset and when you are sad Daddy and I are sad, too, ok?”

Noah took a deep breath and Derek kissed his temple, his eyes moist.

“I’m going to get Daddy now, ok? And you need to tell him everything you just said to me, because Daddy loves you so very much and he is so proud of you, he’ll be so excited that you want to play lacrosse, too,” he said gently, disentangling himself from his son.

When he got downstairs Stiles, who had successfully put Maggie to sleep, had sent Leonie to bed and taken over her Kara-comforting duty, staring bleakly into space.

Derek knelt down in front of him, cupping his cheeks and kissing him deeply.

“Don’t freak out but I need you to talk to Noah,” he said when they pulled apart and Stiles’ expression fell.

“If you think you need to kiss me like _that_ to prepare me then you _bet_ I’m freaking out. Well, I would, if I had any energy left,” Stiles muttered, his eyebrows creased with worry as he left the room.

Derek had no intention to eavesdrop on his mate and son, trusting that Stiles would talk to him once Noah went to sleep, but he was definitely relieved to note that the quality of Noah’s voice sounded much happier than earlier, even without making out the actual words he was saying.

“Three crises down, two to go,” he muttered and with the solution for Cas’ excess energy being only hours away Derek decided to coax Kara into falling asleep, lying down on the carpet and gently lifting her on his chest, noting with remorse that it was after 11 already.

The house was quiet now and he closed his eyes in relief when Kara’s sniffles tapered down, a watery sob escaping her every so often as she finally drifted off to sleep and the tension slipped out of her tiny body.

“Six hours baby-girl, how do you even do that?” Derek whispered sadly, stroking her back with soft fingers and basking in the quiet of a happily sleeping baby.

The sound of footsteps alerted him to Stiles’ presence and Derek didn’t even open his eyes when Stiles gently lifted Kara off his chest to carry her upstairs.

When his mate returned a couple of minutes later Derek looked at him with a soft expression, opening his arms and tightening them around Stiles when the human all but collapsed on top of him, burying his face in his neck and clinging to him for dear life.

Stiles’ eyelashes were wet with unshed tears and once again Derek tried to be patient, waiting for his mate to speak.

“Did I ever actually admit to you that I was really hoping for Leonie to be a boy?” Stiles asked finally, his voice thick with emotion and Derek shook his head, waiting for him to continue.

Stiles’ grip on him tightened.

“I was terrified of raising a little girl. My mom died before I ever really acknowledge her to be a woman – well, that sounds weird but you know what I mean, right? – and then it was only me and Dad for so long. With the exception of my kindergarten friend Heather I actually never had any female friends until the pack came along, I had Scott and he was really all I needed back then, you know? I knew _nothing_ about little girls and you did, because you had those memories of when Cora was little. I was so afraid I’d mess up all the time, that you’d see all my mistakes and lose patience with me. I was a little boy myself, I have an idea of what that feels like, but baby girls were this terrifying enigma for me.”

He snorted softly, one hand idly playing with Derek’s fingers.

“Of course I realized that I had psyched myself out over nothing eventually – not that raising Leo-Pie is easy all the time and I have no doubt we’ll have quite a bit of drama with the twinsies when they get older – but I’ll admit, when Noah and Cas were born I thought ‘Well, we might still mess up with them but maybe not as much.’ Of course now I kind of want to kick my younger self in the behind for being so naïve. Well, and I want to give my dad a medal, because raising girls might be difficult, but raising boys is hard, too!”

He pushed himself up so he could look at Derek, his expression utterly sad.

“If you had told me this twelve years ago I would have laughed, but Derek … I don’t even know our babies’ non-colicky personalities yet but there’s no doubt in my mind that if there’s one kid we might actually accidentally mess up with it’s not going to be one of our daughters, it’s going to be Noah-Boa and that’s … I can’t … Derek, he _hears_ so much, he hears more than his werewolf siblings with _super hearing_ do and he’s too young to understand most of it but damn it, he tries so hard and it just wrecks him every single time!”

He took a deep breath, sighing unhappily.

“When Peter offered me the bite I was curious, yes, but deep down I was always secure enough in myself to want to be a human, to enjoy being human even as my friends started gaining super powers all around me. Granted, I felt jealous every now and then but I never had an existential crisis over it! Sometimes I feel like Noah was _born_ with one. And I want to wrap him up in cotton and protect him from the world but that’s only going to make it worse and …”

He trailed off, taking a deep breath to compose himself before barreling on, sounding like he had wanted to get this off his chest for quite a while.

“He’s going to end up doing something stupid one day, I can feel it in my bones and what if it’s something no one will be able to fix? I really don’t think Noah cares all that much about the speed, or the reflexes, or even the healing, but there’s something bothering him that we’re not seeing and as a result a big part of him hates being human. Short of asking Scott to give him the bite – which I really don’t want to do just yet – I just don’t know how to _fix_ this!”

Derek stroked over his back, his expression sad.

“I know. I often wish my human cousins were still alive, I’m sure they could have given us some advice. They had two werewolf siblings and were in the same position as Noah … well, not quite the same I guess, they were only a year apart in age so neither of them ever really experienced being the only human child, but I don’t remember them ever being as heartbroken about it as our son.”

Stiles huffed.

“I feel like a failure sometimes for passing on my humanity to him – and then I feel like a failure for feeling like a failure about it. I married a werewolf, I fathered three werewolves and I’m still perfectly fine being a human – if _I_ can’t teach him how to embrace who he is then who can?”

He grasped Derek’s shoulder almost painfully, pushing himself up so he could look into the werewolf’s eyes.

“And what if Maggie ends up feeling the same? It’ll be even worse for her because her and Kara are twins – they’ll always be together, she’ll always be confronted with the fact that Kara has certain skills she doesn’t have, what if we’ll mess up with her, too?”

Derek shook his head determinedly, grasping Stiles’ chin to make him look at him.

“Noah will tear off his leg before he won’t try everything in his power to make sure his baby sister won’t feel sad. He’ll be a big help when the time comes and we’ll have learned from our mistakes, too.”

“Will we?” Stiles questioned, his expression skeptical.

“We’ve known him for almost nine years and this still happened!”

He sighed, his head dropping back onto Derek’s shoulder.

“Isn’t there a pack that we could contact? Maybe a former ally of your mother’s? There must be packs out there who have human/werewolf siblings. I know we’ve been trying to figure this out ourselves but I think we have to face the fact that we might need help here before he goes into puberty and everything becomes ten times worse.”

Derek cocked his head, considering.

“The New York pack me and Laura stayed with might be able to help. I haven’t spoken to them in a long time, but …” he said slowly and Stiles nodded, looking determined.

“We should definitely contact them! The entire pack would benefit, too, after all, Scott’s bound to run into some complications with Ellie when she gets old enough to realize her brothers are literally super-humans, and I’d be willing to bet Jackson would be grateful for some tips, too.”

Derek nodded as well.

“I’ll see if I can get Scott to arrange a meeting. We haven’t had any real allies talk in a while, anyways,” he said and Stiles hummed in agreement.

“Good. And hopefully taking Noah to lacrosse practice will help in the meantime,” he muttered, shaking his head sadly.

“When Noah made Honor Roll for the first time I made a copy of the letter and framed it so I could hang it in my office. Everyone at work can probably name the Top 10 of Noah’s greatest achievements because I brag about how smart and kind he is _all the time_! How our amazing little boy could ever possibly think I’m not proud of him is incomprehensible to me and it breaks my heart that I just had to reassure him of exactly that!”

Stiles sounded heartbroken indeed and Derek pulled him tighter, sharing the sentiment.

For a while they just lay there, soaking in the comfort of the other and Derek closed his eyes, feeling his tension drain out of him when he could feel Stiles start to relax as well, the pungent smell of sadness giving way to exhaustion.

Derek’s eyes were still closed when Stiles suddenly started wriggling around on top of him and when he cracked open one eye he could see his mate typing something on his phone.

“What are you doing?” he muttered and Stiles sighed.

“Sending flowers to Dad and Melissa. Growing up I guess part of me realized that being a single parent is tough, but I never quite realized just how heartbreaking the loneliness could have been until we had our own babies. There’s two of us and look at how often we feel overwhelmed or unsure of what to do, imagine how that feels when there’s no one there to shoulder the responsibility with you. We are raising little people here, that’s basically one of the biggest responsibilities there is, and if I didn’t have you to reassure me … I mean, I’m sure I could have somehow worked it out, people do it all the time, but I’m grateful I’m not alone and the more I realize how lucky I am, the more I feel like I should honor my dad’s accomplishment of raising me on his own for most of his life.”

He put his phone down and rested his cheek against Derek’s shoulder, his face turned towards his mate.

“I had ADHD, I had panic attacks, I was socially awkward and only had one friend until High School, _and_ I lied my ass off about all the supernatural stuff for well over a year. I wasn’t an easy kid to raise and yet my dad did just fine, while working a demanding full-time job to boot. The same goes for Melissa, minus the ADHD and panic attacks of course. As far as I’m concerned they deserve flowers everyday for the rest of their lives!”

Derek stroked across Stiles’ head, raking his nails over his scalp to relax his worked up mate.

“They’ll appreciate the sentiment I’m sure, but I would say the love you and the kids show them everyday expresses your gratitude adequately, without any gifts,” he said gently and Stiles chuckled, placing one palm on Derek’s chest.

“Dad did always have a tendency to let plants die,” he mused, shaking his head with a fond smile.

He was silent for a few minutes, his fingers playing idly with the chest hair peaking out of Derek’s V-Neck collar and finally Derek laughed quietly.

“Are you going to roll off of me at some point? We do have to go to bed eventually,” he teased and Stiles shook his head.

“This is the most intimate we have been in weeks, months even, I’m definitely not going to give up on this until I absolutely have to!”

He punctuated his exclamation with a soft kiss against Derek’s neck and the werewolf’s eyes fluttered shut.

“It’s been a while,” he agreed and Stiles nodded emphatically, placing more kisses onto Derek’s neck, collarbone, and shoulder.

“Five months, three weeks, two days, and … let me think … about two hours and forty minutes,” Stiles reported and Derek’s eyebrows shot towards his hairline.

“That long? Really?” he asked, voice baffled, and Stiles shrugged.

“Well, that last time was really good, at least for me, but you were already so far along with the twinsies that we had to be really careful and I think we both agreed that all that maneuvering was a little too much for you. Then you went into early labor and for the first weeks after they were born sex was obviously the farthest thing from my mind. Then they made a pact with the colic-demon and I don’t think we’ve really had awake alone-time since to have a conversation that doesn’t involve one of the kids, let alone do anything else.”

He snuggled closer, sighing contentedly when Derek wrapped both arms around him to pull him tight against his chest.

“I’ve missed this,” Stiles moaned happily, one hand cupping Derek’s cheek.

“Being able to just lie on top of you and gaze lovingly into your eyes without having to worry about squishing precious cargo,” he mused and Derek snorted.

“You’re squishing something alright, but it’s really not all that precious.”

Stiles groaned, half in exasperation, half in amusement.

“It takes nine months to grow a baby, it takes at least that to lose the evidence. As you recall, I put two babies in you so I’ll give you _at least_ 18 months before I dump your fat ass for a hot piece of abs.”

He nipped at Derek’s jaw, partly playful, partly admonishing.

“As I said last month after the ‘Why do my pregnancy pants still feel more comfortable’ mini-angst episode that was luckily cut short by a cranky baby needing a diaper change, if you say stupid things then I’ll say stupid things right back at you.”

He cocked his head, considering.

“Also, your ass isn’t fat, so don’t you dare take _that_ away from what I’ve just said.”

Derek grunted and Stiles sighed loudly.

“Listen, I realize it’s a fine line between respecting your feelings about your own body and indulging you in what I personally believe to be unnecessary insecurities, but the fact of the matter remains: I was just able to tell you the last time we had sex to the day, _that’s_ how much I miss and want you, so you can take those insecurities and …”

“Shove them up my ass?” Derek deadpanned and Stiles shook his head remorsefully.

“Nah. I’d much rather you shoved something up _my_ ass!” he lamented melodramatically, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

Derek snorted.

“Duly noted. And just so you know, I wasn’t going to repeat the jeans-tantrum,” he said firmly.

Stiles smiled down at him gently.

“I know. But I still don’t like it when you put yourself down like that, even as a joke.”

Derek tightened his grip on him.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You better be. ‘Cause just so you know, when you put yourself down like that you insult the single most hottest person I’ve ever met and, coincidentally, the guy I love more than my life, so that stuff really hurts my feelings.”

Derek smiled widely.

“Single most hottest person you say?”

Stiles grinned.

“Totally, couldn’t keep my hands off of him if they weren’t filled with crying babies all the time.”

Derek smirked, a playful glint in his eyes.

“I don’t hear a baby crying right now, do you?”

Stiles moaned unhappily.

“The mind is willing, trust me, _so_ willing, but my body just wants to sleep. I’ve been lying on top of you for like 20 minutes and based on Pavlov’s dog I should have tried to get you naked 19 minutes and 59 seconds ago. I’m afraid I’ll have to stick to loving gazes for now … or at least until I’ve actually gotten a full night of sleep again.”

Derek chuckled, barely suppressing a yawn himself.

“Sounds good to me. Love-struck gazing has always been a specialty of mine.”

Stiles snorted loudly.

“You don’t say, Stalker Wolf …” he began, voice muffled when Derek shut him up with a kiss.

It was a good kiss, more heated than they had shared in a while and even though he was still exhausted, Stiles could feel himself getting interested in something more physically demanding after all.

Derek was clearly having similar thoughts and Stiles was about to let his hand wander down Derek’s body when a loud wail rang through the house.

Groaning, Stiles dropped his head on Derek’s chest.

“That wasn’t even an _hour_!” he whined, pushing himself up with another groan while Derek rubbed his hands over his eyes with a sigh.

“I hesitate to use the word in a sentence about our precious babies, but _man_ that’s cockblocking at its most effective right here!” Stiles continued and Derek laughed regretfully, getting to his feet as well and joining his mate on the way upstairs, wincing when their second baby started wailing as well.

It was shaping up to be yet another long night.

 

===============

 

_Pee Wee Lacrosse Practice_

 

“If I had really invested all of my hopes and dreams into Cas becoming my little perfect lacrosse player then _oh man_ , my will to live would have disappeared twenty minutes ago!” Stiles exclaimed before burying his face in his hands and Derek patted his back sympathetically, a little resigned himself.

Unlike Noah, who was exhibiting some real talent and clearly having the time of his life, Cas had so far rejected every order, every regulation, in short, simply everything about lacrosse that actually made the sport lacrosse from the moment he had stepped onto the field.

Now, thirty minutes into Pee Wee practice, Derek was ready to admit that their younger son would never pick up a lacrosse stick again without the threat of violence.

He was fast, but he had no interest in holding a stick or making goals, had no interest in interacting with the ball, period, and was mostly happy just running around the field like he owned it.

On the plus side, he would probably be exhausted tonight and refrain from breaking more of Grandma Stilinski’s kitschy porcelain.

On the negative side, Derek was pretty sure Coach Finstock was about to have a heart attack.

Stiles’ old lacrosse coach had taken over the Pee Wee team when his son Will had been old enough to join and even though the boy was in junior high now Finstock had simply never stopped coaching the little ones, a fact that Stiles had attributed to power-lust and Derek, who had never had Finstock as a teacher and was therefore not as biased, simply put down to the man being an utter and total softie in secret.

This year Finstock’s younger son Bill – according to Stiles the boys’ names had apparently been an homage to _Independence Day_ and despite popular belief neither was short for William– had joined the team and while the oldest Finstock boy was almost ironically reserved given his genetic material, Bill was very much not in favor of Cas simply running around like a wild man and articulating his displeasure just like his father.

He had been trying to pass Cas the ball all throughout the game and Derek was pretty sure his son was starting to become terrified of Billy Finstock, who kept running up towards him and constantly yelled at him to do something with the ball.

The eventual collision happened almost in slow motion, but by the time all three fathers had rushed to the field to assist both boys were sitting on the grass with surprised looks on their faces, no tears or anger in sight.

“What was _that_?” Finstock demanded, the usual note of resigned amusement in his voice – albeit significantly warmer – and both boys looked up at him, Cas giving off a rather frustrated vibe and Billy Finstock’s expression looking decidedly sheepish.

“I wanted to pass him the ball Sir, Daddy, Sir!” Billy reported and Cas looked up at his fathers helplessly.

“I don’t wantto have the ball, running with the stick is _stupid_!” he whined and before Stiles could respond Finstock was already squatting in front of him, both hands on his small shoulders and squeezing encouragingly.

“Listen up young Mr. Hale, if you don’t want to run with the stick it’s not playing lacrosse, it’s just running,” he explained and Cas bit his lip, looking even more upset.

“Is that what you want to do instead? Just run? And maybe jump across hurdles? Or just jump as far as you can?” Finstock continued and Cas nodded wildly.

“Is there a lacrosse position like that?” he asked hopefully, his face falling when Coach shook his head but immediately brightening up when Stiles’ former teacher whispered, “There’s another team, just for you, just let me talk to your fathers really quick,” conspiratorially.

“I know which team you mean Daddy! I’m on the team, too! I can teach you!” Billy, who had been watching the exchange in rapt fascination, squealed and when Cas turned towards the boy – who was now sporting a little bump on his forehead from running into his youngest son but didn’t seem to mind whatsoever – Stiles resigned himself to a future of Finstock-Hale Sleepovers, recognizing the “Where have you been for all of my five year old life!” look on his son’s face for what it was.

With their children in the process of cementing a life-long bromance, Finstock pulled Stiles and Derek aside, marching them over to the edge of the field and looking over to the boys once more to check they weren’t paying attention, before he whirled towards the men.

“I’ll take him for whichever track team I’ll coach in my life to the day I die, I promise, but for the love of all that is holy Stilinski, get this hyper energetic fruit of your loins off my lacrosse field! So help me god, I’ll take your clone with the _suspiciously_ Hale-shaped jaw and slightly broody attitude for my lacrosse team, but the little Halinski has to _go_! This is no fun for anyone, least of all for him!”

Stiles could hear Derek inhaling sharply next to him and he had no doubt in his mind that the shell-shocked, alarmed look on his mate’s face mirrored his own.

Coach looked between the two of them before rolling his eyes so hard it looked like they were about to fall out of their sockets.

“Oh _please_!” he grunted, annoyed look turning to deeply offended.

“Did you two seriously think I wouldn’t notice that there was a connection between McCall suddenly being able to heal broken bones on the field like a fricken’ _werewolf_  and that one stalking the school premises every day all of a sudden?!”

He pointed his finger into Derek’s chest accusatorily and the werewolf let him, too dumbstruck to respond.

“Just for your information, there was actually a faculty vote if we were going to turn you in to the police because we weren’t quite sure if you were a creepy guy trying to mack on the kids all Big Bad Wolf from Red Riding Hood-Style or if you were just really lame and had nothing better to do, but then Stilinski started making heart-eyes at you and when Mr. Harris called the Sheriff he just groaned and hung up so we figured hey, who were we to step in the way of the most awkward and embarrassing courtship in the history of ever! And don’t even let me get started about that time Whittemore turned into a lizard, because I still drink to forget about _that_ … well, I would, if I still drank that was, but the point remains!”

Stiles opened and closed his mouth wordlessly, his eyes widening even further but Coach wasn’t done yet, his expression as gleeful as that of a man who had been waiting for years to finally have his say.

“Additionally, let me talk to you about discretion, please, because I have been _dying_ to read you the Oxford dictionary definition for years now! For your information, discretion means the quality of behaving or speaking in such a way as to avoid causing offense or revealing private information, like, say, oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that through the power of his werewolfy ways Hale here _gave birth to every single one of the adorable Halinskis terrorizing the village!_ ”

He shook his head, rolling his eyes when Derek’s hands flew to his midsection automatically as if he was trying to hide evidence.

“ _There_ , see? Not subtle!”

Stiles cleared his throat as he looked around wildly, making sure no one was in hearing range before he croaked, “But how?!”

Coach grinned evilly, clearly enjoying every second of the dramatic reveal.

“I’ll walk you through it: werewolf gets pale all the time for weeks; werewolf walks around glowing all over town while werewolf’s human can’t seem to keep his hands off of werewolf’s stomach to save his life; werewolf’s rock-hard abs turn into a beautifully arched curve that looked so full of life my own breeding urges got so strong that I had to compensate by going home and knocking up the wife with the offputtingly genius kid who’s now letting your daughter copy his math notes all the time. You’re welcome by the way, I’m pretty sure without my boy that daughter of yours would have failed math two years ago! But where was I … ah yes, werewolf realizes he can no longer hide belly from the public he believes to be blind and stupid and disappears for a couple of months; human goes to Babies R’ Us on his lunch break every day and thinks no one is going to notice; werewolf and human reappear in public with a gorgeous baby and it’s only because I am feeling really generous right now that I won’t make a point about nursing bras, but just so you know, that also wasn’t quite as discreetly hidden as you might have thought!”

Derek’s cheeks were burning now and Stiles looked like he might fall over so Finstock, after rolling his eyes one more time, stepped between them, throwing an arm around each of them.

“Listen, before he moved to Silicon Valley to become a millionaire Mahealani and I had a nice cigar and a bottle of whiskey and we agreed that the people in this town are not necessarily blind but subscribe to willful oblivion. It works for Beacon Hills and it has worked for you and between you and me, I think the people here actually feel safer knowing there are a bunch of people with super strength running around to protect the town. Not that your dad didn’t do a well enough job, but those glowing eyes and huge teeth are quite impressive.”

He patted Derek’s shoulder, leaning in a little to inspect his face as if he was expecting Derek to sprout fangs right then and there.

“I only have one question though,” he said conspiratorially, dragging his gaze all the way down to Derek’s stomach and back up again and Derek raised his eyebrows, bracing himself for a really uncomfortable explanation about male Alpha pregnancy and the rules of conception.

However, Coach, as usual, didn’t fail to surprise.

“I’ve always wondered – where in the world do your eyebrows go?”

For a moment nobody said anything.

Then Stiles began to shake with silent laughter, losing the battle two seconds after as tears began to pool in his eyes.

Cas was looking over at them with interest and Derek could hear Noah whisper, “See, I told you, my Daddy is a really funny guy!” before he lost it himself.

Coach crossed his arms over his chest, looking partly amused and partly annoyed.

“No really, I have been wondering for years, where do they _go_? Is there a hidden brow compartment in your head, what would happen if you manscaped them, would they grow back all bushy or elegant? There are answers to these questions out there somewhere and I need to know, desperately, it has been driving me insane for years!”

“Coach,” Stiles gasped, clapping his own hand on the older man’s shoulder and beaming from ear to ear.

“I love you! I really, truly do!”

Coach’s expression didn’t change a bit.

“You’re a menace _B_ ilinski, always have been, always will be. But I think my kid is about to propose to your werewolf boy wonder over there so how about we call it even?”

With another good-natured clap on both men’s shoulders Coach turned around to walk back to the children and Stiles and Derek stared after him, then at each other, neither of them quite sure yet they had actually had this discussion.

They were still grinning at each other when Coach turned back towards them.

“Oh and Halinskis!” he yelled, a smug grin spreading all over his face.

“Pee Wee Track is every Saturday at 11 – don’t be late!”

Derek shook his head with a smile when Stiles saluted in response and it wasn’t until his mate turned towards him again with wide eyes that they realized what they had just committed to.

“Derek …” Stiles began faintly, ticking off their new schedule on his fingers.

“That’s swim practice for Leo-Pie four times a week, Pee Wee lacrosse for Noah at least twice a week and track practice for Cas on a _Saturday_! Plus tournaments! We have officially given up on all of the private time we had left for the next 13 to 18 years!”

Derek shrugged, rolling his eyes a little.

“It took you that long to figure it out?” he asked and Stiles moaned, hiding his face behind his hands.

“Do you think we could entice Kara into playing soccer? You drove that Soccer Mom car for years, it’s a shame none of the kiddos were interested in kicking a ball around on the field. While we’re at it, I am also thinking about signing Maggie up for baby-ballet, I think she’d look really cute in a pink tutu with that tanned complexion she got from you,” he declared and Derek chuckled.

“How about we wait until they can both walk, pretty sure that’s a requirement for both soccer and ballet,” he suggested and Stiles grunted, wrapping one arm around Derek’s waist and leaning his head on his mate’s shoulder as they watched Coach end practice.

Cas was still engrossed in what looked to be a serious little-boy discussion with Billy and had obviously forgotten he had parents, but Noah made his way over to Derek and Stiles immediately, his cheeks flushed with happiness and glowing with pride over the goal he had scored towards the end.

“Pretty sure we did something right today,” Stiles muttered, smacking a kiss on Derek’s stubbly cheek before disentangling himself from his mate and meeting Noah halfway, sweeping him up in a bear-hug and twirling him around.

As he watched his mate and son beam at each other Derek felt lighter than he had in a couple of months.

Unless the colic-demon was gearing up for another major attack it looked like this year’s Christmas would definitely be a joyful one.

 

=========================

 

Two days after the practice and one week before Christmas Derek found his first gray hairs. It was by coincidence, really, a casual glance into the mirror a couple of hours after what Stiles would forever call the ‘pinnacle of the colicky phase’ and when he did notice them he stared, not upset, per se, but surprised.

He touched his hair gingerly, noting the way the grey was almost sprinkled onto his head and wondering if this would already qualify as what Stiles liked to call ‘salt and pepper’ hair.

With their slowed down aging process werewolves usually didn’t turn gray until they were in their late 80s and Derek hadn’t been expecting them quite yet.

Then again, after the events of the past hours he really wasn’t surprised – after all, Marie Antoinette’s hair had supposedly turned snow-white overnight and even though Derek hadn’t spent the past twelve hours waiting for his execution, his stress levels had gone through the roof regardless.

_5 Hours Earlier_

“Daddy’s going to buy you a pony if you stop screaming! No? How about a Porsche for your first car? Still no? Sweet girl, I draw the line at a yacht, but if that’s what will make you stop crying I promise we can figure something out just … please Kara-Baby, please, please stop!”

Stiles had been holed up in the bedroom with Kara for over two hours now, making all kinds of desperate promises to her if she would only stop screaming and Derek, who was walking around the living room with a screeching Maggie shook his head every now and then when the promises became too outrageous, feeling just as desperate as his mate sounded upstairs when both of their daughters continued to scream.

Noah had stuck his head inside the living room door to say goodnight twenty minutes earlier, and when he had trotted to his room Derek had heard the distinctive sound of paws following him.

It hadn’t surprised him, after all, Noah’s room was the farthest away from their bedroom and the babies and their almost five-year old dog Jay-Jay, who remained decidedly unimpressed with all the screaming in the house but was very attached to the older children, had been sleeping in either Leonie’s or Noah’s room for months now, most likely to avoid the nightly commotion downstairs when either Stiles or Derek were sleepwalking around with a howling infant.

Leonie and Cas were still up and when Kara finally began to quiet down upstairs Derek breathed a sigh of relief. It was only two out of five but progress was definitely being made on the Stilinski-Hale-Sleeping-Front.

Five minutes later Stiles walked into the living room, his expression exhausted as he bent over Leonie’s shoulder to look at her math homework.

Maggie was making sounds that sounded truly miserable now and when Stiles mouthed “Noah and Cas?” at Derek the werewolf nodded his head towards the ceiling, mouthing “Bedtime?” right back with a pleading look.

Stiles nodded, seemingly interpreting the plea correctly as he walked out of the living room, taking over today’s bedtime story duty.

Maggie’s crying once more turned into shrieking wails and Leonie, who had been trying to do math for over an hour now, snapped her book shut with a sigh.

Derek gave her a sharp look and she raised her hands in surrender, an apologetic expression on her tanned face.

“Want me to take her for a while?” she asked and Derek shook his head, shifting his howling baby from one shoulder to the other.

“Go finish your homework upstairs, Kara is sleeping,” he instructed and Leonie shook her head, nodding towards her baby-sister.

“I can hear them everywhere in the house Papa, unless you want me to go out into the tree house I won’t be able to concentrate anymore tonight,” she explained and Derek found himself weighing the pros and cons of a hypothermic werewolf daughter – not that it should be possible, but then again, neither should a colicky werewolf baby – against an upset math teacher for a couple of seconds before he sighed himself.

“I’ll write you a note tomorrow,” he said, a look of resignation growing on his face when Maggie wailed even louder than before.

It probably wasn’t the best parenting but as far as Derek was concerned the math teacher could come babysit his twin babies for a couple of hours before giving his oldest more homework in junior high that he could remember having to do in high school.

Maggie hiccupped twice, looking deeply startled for a second before once again raising her volume and Derek winced, on the one hand truly impressed with his baby for reaching a volume that was actually hurting his ears and on the other hand feeling so miserable for her that he briefly debated screaming himself.

“Can you make me some coffee?” he asked Leonie and she nodded, throwing him a tired salute as she made her way into the kitchen.

Stiles, meanwhile, had joined Cas on an adventure to Neverland, wondering faintly if babies _never ever ever_ screamed there, if Peter Pan would allow adults to join the Lost Boys, and if Taylor Swift, whom Leonie had re-discovered among Scott’s old CDs lately, would be interested in coming out of retirement to write a song about colicky infants.

Cas was cuddled against his side, one thumb stuck in his mouth and Stiles let him, figuring that their werewolf son probably needed something to comfort himself against the ongoing screaming from downstairs, which Stiles could hear only faintly.

He was in the middle of explaining to his son that yes, the Lost Boys wore animal costumes but that it didn’t mean they were were-creatures, when the quality of Maggie’s screams suddenly changed.

Stiles had gotten to know both of his babies’ quite well over the past four months and he didn’t need either Cas suddenly tensing against him or Derek screaming his name in what was undoubtedly panic to be able to tell that his baby girl was either in pain or really scared. In either case, something was definitely, one hundred percent wrong.

“Stiles!” Derek screamed again and Stiles dropped the book, jumping out of the bed and almost tripping on a forgotten toy on the floor, his heart racing as he yanked open the door and almost stumbled over Noah, who was on his way downstairs as well, looking deeply worried.

With Cas and Noah hot on his heels Stiles barged down the stairs and when he entered the living room Leonie was pale and Derek looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

“Something’s wrong!” his werewolf gasped and when Stiles got closer he could clearly see the bulge all around Maggie’s bellybutton where her little t-shirt had ridden up.

“That wasn’t there five minutes ago Daddy!” Leonie reported, sounding almost hysterical, and even though everything in Stiles was just about ready to freak out even worse than his mate and oldest daughter he forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to calm himself and figure out a course of action.

Melissa and his father were on a trip to Idaho to see some great-aunt and Stiles didn’t want to worry his stepmother and father, especially since there was nothing they could do from Idaho.

That left Ethan or Deaton and he hastily went for the phone, throwing a concerned look at Derek, who was shaking as he cradled Maggie, one hand resting on her soft belly to draw out whatever pain she was in because of the not identified swelling.

Now that he could see her Stiles didn’t think she was in pain at all, instead, his baby looked more freaked out than anything – not that that was in any way less frightening.

“Hey there, Stiles,” Ethan’s voice suddenly sounded in his ear and Stiles almost dropped the phone.

“Something’s wrong with my Maggie!” he rushed out and he could almost feel Ethan’s double-take through the phone before the pediatrician spoke again, his voice calm and authoritative.

“Elaborate!” he instructed and Stiles stepped closer, describing the grape-sized swelling on his daughter’s tummy with a shaking voice.

Ethan was quite for a couple of seconds before he exhaled loudly.

“It’s not serious Stiles,” he said calmly and Stiles grasped Derek’s shoulder tightly, angling the phone so that Derek could hear him as well.

“There is a grape-sized swelling on my daughter’s belly, how is that not serious!” he snapped and Ethan exhaled once more, his voice calm when he continued to speak.

“What you are describing sounds like an umbilical hernia – it happens quite often in babies actually and is no cause for concern unless she’s in pain or the area is tender.”

“But … none of the others had that!” Stiles exclaimed and when Ethan spoke again he sounded a little out of breath, as if he was getting into his car.

“I’ll be over there in a few to take a look myself, but based on the screaming I can hear your daughter doesn’t seem to be in pain. I know it’s difficult but please, Stiles, try to relax, ok? Derek can try to leach her discomfort if the hernia does in fact cause her pain, but as I said, I will be there shortly and we can see if I can do something about it.”

He cut off the phone call and Stiles turned towards Derek, hoping to see his mate having calmed down a little and noting unhappily that Derek seemed even more terrified than before.

“None of the others had this, this is not normal, something’s wrong and I can’t do this again, I can’t …”

Resolutely Stiles grabbed his mate’s face on either side, forcing his chin up to make him look at him.

“Nothing is going to happen to her, she’s going to be just fine, Ethan just said it’s normal. I actually remember Isaac telling me a story about something like this happening to him when he was still a baby and he turned out to be just fine. Maybe our daughter will wear lots of scarves when she gets older to compensate for the hernia trauma, but please Derek, I need you to calm down, ok? Our baby is fine, she’s absolutely fine, just look at her, does she look like she’s in pain?”

Maggie had actually stopped screaming, her face scrunched up in concentration and for a moment Stiles wasn’t quite sure if she was about to go number two or if she was trying to figure out why there was a knob on her belly that hadn’t been there before.

“Maggie’s fine Papa,” Cas spoke up suddenly, sounding a bit muffled and when Stiles turned towards him his younger son’s eyes were wide, one hand grasping Noah’s tightly and the other held in front of his mouth as he tried to speak around his thumb.

Leonie was looking at him with a mixture of fear and confusion and the fact that she had caught his little white lie about Isaac but Derek hadn’t really wasn’t a good sign regarding his mate’s state of mind.

“Derek, my love, please, I need you to calm down,” he tried again and Derek shook his head almost stubbornly, his breaths coming out in little wheezes now.

Upstairs, Kara started to mewl and Stiles looked towards Leonie with a pleading expression.

“Leonie, can you take the boys upstairs and make sure Kara is ok? Maggie is going to be just fine, I promise, we’re just going to wait for Uncle Ethan now, ok?”

Cas looked ready to protest, clearly not happy about having to leave his distressed pack members, but with Derek still looking like he was about to keel over Stiles was in no mood to discuss, as he didn’t want their younger children to witness their Papa’s panic attack.

When they were gone he turned back towards Derek, assessing the situation.

Trying to take Maggie from him would probably lead to very uncomfortable results for everyone, so he opted for solution two, stealing himself as he wrapped both arms around Derek’s waist, holding him tight as he repeated again and again that their baby would be fine.

Derek was shaking and clearly not listening but Stiles continued to hold him tightly, trying to breathe as calmly as possible.

He knew why Derek was reacting this way and a part of him wanted to react this way, too, but having both of them freak out over something that Ethan had already called harmless simply wouldn’t do, even though it looked terrifying and out of place on his child’s torso.

“She’s going to be fine, Derek, please, Ethan will be here soon and she’ll be fine,” Stiles continued to whisper, but it wasn’t until Ethan grasped Derek’s shoulder with one hand and gently pushed the grape-sized protrusion back in with the other ten minutes later that Derek’s breathing began to slow.

“That’s it?” Stiles asked, staring at Ethan, then at their daughter’s once again perfectly normal belly and Ethan shrugged, his expression caught somewhere between compassion and amusement.

“Well, I am a doctor so I know how to do it properly, obviously, but yeah, that’s all there is to it. As I said, this is normal and rarely ever causes complications, especially if she is not in pain and the area, as we just clearly established, isn’t tender.”

“Was this my fault? Did I push her out wrong?” Derek asked, his voice sounding hoarse, and Ethan shook his head firmly.

“Nonsense Derek. This is not uncommon at all and in most cases the hernia will close on its own within the first two years. I know it can be terrifying when you first notice it, but I promise, from what I can tell this will take care of itself and you can clearly see that this little lady is as happy and healthy as can be, colic aside,” he explained, looking at Stiles when the human exhaled loudly.

“Why didn’t we see this until now? Did it just happen today?” he asked and Ethan shook his head.

“Sometimes you can see them as soon as the umbilical stub falls off, with other children it takes a while longer to present. Maybe she was straining more than usual while she was crying earlier and that’s why it became more noticeable, but I would assume that it’s been there for a while, just small enough to not be noticeable under her clothing.”

“And she’s really fine, this will really heal, even without werewolf healing?” Derek pressed, still sounding stricken, and Ethan nodded again, voice patient.

“I promise you she will be fine, one doesn’t need werewolf powers to heal something like this,” he confirmed.

There were footsteps on the stairs now and when Stiles turned around he was not at all surprised to see all of his children standing there.

“She’s really going to be ok Uncle Ethan?” Leonie asked, adjusting a sniffling Kara in her arms and when Ethan nodded both Leonie and Cas’ faces relaxed, though Noah continued looking anxious.

“Is it because she’s a human baby? Is that why this happened?” he blurted out suddenly, startling everyone in the room.

Ethan had already opened his mouth to reply when he seemed to realize whom he was speaking to and his expression changed, becoming rather gentle.

“Nah, Noah-Buddy. Werewolf babies can have umbilical hernias, too, but they are sneaky, they usually just heal them before their parents ever notice they are there. Maggie has to wait a while longer until her body heals itself, but this could have happened to Kara just as well, being a human baby has nothing to do with it,” he said and Noah nodded in understanding, his pained expression softening.

If Stiles hadn’t made a Disney-Prince-clad vow to never kiss another werewolf besides his Derek for the rest of his life he would have planted a big one on Ethan right then and there.

Cas looked like he was ready to pass out on the stairs, now that the crisis was over and after making sure that Derek was truly calming down Stiles herded both of his sons upstairs, leaving Leonie and Kara in the living room, since Ethan had decided to check over their werewolf baby as well while he was already here.

By the time Ethan was ready to leave Maggie had passed out and was sleeping soundly in Derek’s arms and the werewolf felt almost embarrassed for having reacted this way, even though he had clearly been able to smell that their child wasn’t in mortal danger.

Stiles had been quiet during Kara’s examination, his smile a little absent when Ethan had pronounced her to be just as healthy as her twin sister, and when their doctor got up from the couch his mate tapped Derek’s arm lightly, muttering, “I’ll take her,” a quality to his voice that made Derek hand over their human baby without question.

After he had seen Ethan out the door – not without making him promise to come back in the morning to check on Maggie before work – Derek walked back into the living room, only to find that his mate and daughter were nowhere in sight.

“Daddy took her upstairs,” Leonie said absentmindedly, her nose nuzzling against Kara’s cheek and Derek decided to leave them be for now, bracing himself as he slowly walked upstairs.

He opened the door to their room slowly and when he peaked his head inside Stiles was sitting in the rocking chair, humming softly as he cradled a sleeping Maggie against his chest.

When he looked up at Derek his eyes were moist and when he spoke he sounded hoarse.

“Maggie and I are having a talk about scaring Daddy into balding. I think I’m getting through to her but we need to negotiate some more,” he whispered and Derek leaned against the doorframe, feeling bone-deep exhausted.

Now that he had regained a certain semblance of calm he could see just how shaken Stiles looked, how utterly deflated now that the crisis was over.

He stepped forward gingerly, sinking down to his knees as he rested his head on Stiles’ thigh.

Maggie twitched in Stiles’ arms and Derek gently grasped one little leg, pressing his nose against the soft cotton of her clothes.

“She’s really not in pain, right?” Stiles asked quietly and Derek shook his head.

“She smells happy, actually,” he whispered back, leaning against Stiles’ touch when his mate stroked through his hair with one hand.

“I’m sorry …” he began, but Stiles interrupted him, gently tugging at his ear.

“If I’d been the first to see it our positions would have most likely been reversed. That’s why there are two of us … if one of us freaks out the other has his back. Never feel sorry for loving our babies, ok?”

Derek nodded into Stiles’ thigh, feeling too drained to speak.

They were silent for a moment; then Stiles readjusted Maggie against his chest.

“I think we’ll negotiate some more, right baby girl?” he said gently, bending so he could press a light kiss against Derek’s temple.

“You got Kara?” he asked and Derek nodded, getting to his feet.

He could understand his mate’s need to be alone with their baby right now, to reassure himself she was fine just like Derek had earlier, and even though he was finding it difficult to leave, the quiet coos he could hear from Kara downstairs somehow made it easier.

Stiles flashed him a grateful smile as he closed the door and after he had checked in on his sleeping sons Derek went back downstairs, where Leonie was still cuddling Kara.

“She started cooing the moment Maggie made that little happy sigh in her sleep – I always thought twin bonds were a myth but these two are as exemplary as any fictional cliché,” his oldest remarked and Derek laughed quietly, sitting down cross-legged on the carpet to ruffle Jay-Jay’s fur as he felt the tension slowly draining out of him.

“It’s not unheard of among werewolves, though it’s surprising how strongly Maggie feels it, too,” Derek said softly and Leonie looked at him in interest.

“Do you think that’s where it comes from? Why it’s such a common trope in movies and literature?” she asked and Derek raised his eyebrows, surprised that she even knew that word.

“Maybe. There are even stories of identical werewolf twins merging into one bigger wolf during the full moon, but I’ve never seen that before,” he told her and Leonie shuddered.

“That sounds super gross Papa,” she decided and Derek shrugged.

“I’ve never seen it personally, as I said, but you could ask Aiden or Ethan I’m sure.”

Leonie shook her head, apparently adamant to get the mental image out of her head.

Kara made a sound that was almost inquisitive and Leonie grinned down at her sister.

“You’re a little cliché and you don’t even care, do you?” she smiled and when Kara grinned toothlessly in return Derek chuckled.

When he sat down on the couch Leonie snuggled against his chest, Kara still cradled in her arms.

“Maggie’s going to be fine, right?” she asked hesitantly and Derek nodded firmly, reaching out a hand to stroke Kara’s cheek.

“She’ll be just fine,” he said and Leonie exhaled loudly, shaking her head at the baby fondly.

“I don’t even know why Uncle Jackson wants more babies, having kids is _terrifying_ ,” she remarked and Derek made an interested sound, grateful for the distraction.

“He does? They are seriously talking about it?” he asked and Leonie nodded, playing with Kara’s fingers.

“It’s a whole big thing over at their place right now. Julia’s bitching … sorry Papa, _complaining_ that Jackson should have learned his lesson the last time he started the family planning within half a year of dating, Josie is already jealous that Uncle Jackson could love a new baby more than them because he’d be with the other parent, Emilia has been moody all the time lately because everyone in the house is so on edge with all the drama and Aurelia has completely attached herself to Uncle Aiden because she’s never spent so much time around an Alpha before. The other day Julia wanted to snuggle her and Aurelia clung to Aiden like her mom was the Wicked Witch of the West trying to take her away. You can imagine how well _that_ went.”

She shrugged, turning her head towards Derek.

“I feel sorry for Uncle Aiden. I think he really loves Uncle Jackson and truly wants to have his babies, but I also think he’s scared it’s going to make things even more complicated.”

She looked at Derek seriously, expression thoughtful.

“Do you think he’s scared he will love the baby more than the girls? Because that’s normal, right?” she asked and Derek thought about it, choosing his words carefully.

“Aiden is the girls’ Alpha, even though two of them aren’t wolves. He’d do anything for them now that they are his pack so I don’t think it would be a matter of loving, per se … there’s just a lot of different ways you can come to love someone,” he said slowly and Leonie cocked her head, considering.

“Like how Cora loves Jacob and Finja? Even though they aren’t biologically hers?”

Derek nodded, running a hand idly over Kara’s tummy as the baby’s eyes began to drift shut.

“Exactly. She didn’t have to carry them inside of her to love them unconditionally and if someone were to threaten them she would throw herself in front of them just like Daddy and I would for you guys. Just because the girls have a different mother and Aiden hasn’t raised them since they were babies that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t do the same for them, even if he had a child that was biologically his.”

He shrugged slightly, his face apologetic.

“It can be a sensitive issue Leo-Pie and I’m a little too tired to explain it properly right now, but I think I can guarantee you that Jackson would never put his girls in a situation where they would feel less loved than a new baby and Aiden would never hurt Jackson by making his daughters feel terrible about themselves, so I don’t think we have anything to worry about there.”

Leonie nodded, seemingly accepting his explanation.

She focused her attention on Kara again and Derek was about to ask her if she wanted him to take over and go to bed when the soft sound of singing stopped him.

“I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day,” Stiles’ voice rang through the house, clearly audible for werewolf ears, and Leonie looked at Derek, her head cocked to the side.

“I know that song Papa,” she mused and Derek smiled.

“You should! Your Dad sang that song to you for hours on end when you were a baby, even before you were born, actually,” he explained and Leonie’s eyes wandered over the ceiling, her expression soft.

“Did he really?” she asked and Derek nodded.

“He did. I did, too, but you always liked it better when he did it,” he confirmed, draping an arm across his oldest’ shoulder and kissing the top of her head.

For a while both werewolves listened to Stiles sing and Derek marveled at the love he could hear in his mate’s voice, every bit the same as with their first daughter.

It reminded him of that first night with Leonie, with Stiles gently cradling the baby as Derek had watched them both, listening to his mate sing the song to her that he had chosen long before having real proof that they were actually having a little girl.

He had wondered then how he could ever give birth to another baby, had wondered how he could ever love someone else as much as the tiny, wrinkled, miraculous, and beautiful being cradled against her father’s chest, but as he listened to Stiles sing now, the love he had for their babies pouring out of every note and every word, he chastised himself for ever thinking there wasn’t enough love inside him for more than one child.

Granted, there were days when all of his three older children exhibited character traits or did certain things that Derek didn’t necessarily _like_ , but loving them never stopped, coming to both his mate and himself as easily as breathing.

Kara made a pleased sound, interrupting his train of thought and Derek reached over to stroke a finger across his sleepily blinking baby’s cheek.

“I think she can hear him, too,” Leonie whispered and Derek, who could feel the contentment wafting out of his youngest child, smiled in agreement, holding out his arms for her.

Leonie gently placed Kara in the crook of his left arm and then snuggled against his right side once more, breathing evenly as she listened to her father sing upstairs.

Stiles continued singing for a long time and by the time he walked back downstairs both of his werewolf daughters were sleeping soundly in their other father’s arms.

“I love you,” Derek mouthed at him, turning his head up when Stiles pressed a soft kiss against his lips.

“Ditto,” his mate whispered before sinking onto the couch on Derek’s other side, hooking his chin over Derek’s shoulder to look at their oldest and youngest.

“They all love that song,” Derek said barely audibly and Stiles looked at him in confusion for a second before a proud smile lit up his tired face.

“I still got it, huh?” he whispered back and Derek nodded, resting his head against Stiles’ temple.

“You always do.”

 

=================

 

_Christmas Eve_

“We are horrible parents, just _horrible_!” Stiles lamented on the evening of the 24 th, waving a roll of wrapping paper at Derek like a light-saber and Derek groaned, cursing himself for thinking that glittery bows were a good idea as he tried to get the pink glitter out of his beard.

“In our defense, I really don’t see how we could have done this earlier, the kids are awake all day and we have been up with the babies every single night for the past weeks. They can just be glad we found time to actually get them presents at all,” he grunted, tearing off another asymmetric piece of paper with his claws and wondering if there was any person in the world who was actually able to wrap up a bike prettily without going insane.

They had been wrapping presents for over an hour now, hidden away in their bedroom and hoping against hope that the babies would stay calm for once.

Leonie had volunteered to try to get Cas into bed, an almost impossible feat on this particular night since their little boy was adamant Santa was coming any minute now, and Noah was watching his baby-sisters.

Last Derek had checked in on him Noah had been sitting in front of their two bouncers, making faces and tickling their feet and as he continued to wrap presents he absentmindedly listened to their coos, smiling every so often when they made a particularly adorable sound.

“What are you grinning about?” Stiles asked playfully, having apparently given up on untangling the yellow cord he had used to make tiny bows with earlier and Derek nodded towards the door with a grin.

“If those girls’ first word won’t be ‘Noah’ I am going to eat one of Isaac’s scarves,” he said in explanation and Stiles grinned proudly.

“He’s going to make an amazing daddy one day,” he decided with conviction and Derek smiled.

“He’ll have had a good example,” he said, grinning when Stiles chuckled.

“You trying to butter me up for something my beloved mate?” he asked teasingly and Derek’s grin became decidedly wolfish.

“You think?” he asked playfully and Stiles scoffed.

“It’s _Christmas_! Daddy needs a present, too,” he declared, wiggling his eyebrows with a smirk when Derek rolled his eyes.

“Daddy Talk? Is that what you wanted for a present?” he asked and Stiles put Leonie’s new purple wallet down before lunging across the little space between him and Derek and straddling his mate’s lap, grinning when Derek made a surprised ‘oof’ sound.

“Not … _quite_ ,” he whispered before attacking Derek’s mouth and Derek quickly became aware of three things.

One, the door was locked and there was no danger of being interrupted by nosy little werewolves or humans.

Two, it had definitely been way too long judging by the quickly growing erection pressing against his own.

Three, the presents could most definitely wait.

“Yeah?” Stiles breathed against his lips, one hand dropping down to rub against Derek’s crotch and Derek nodded, pulling him closer.

“Thank god,” Stiles whispered, moving his hips in a way that made Derek’s breath catch.

“Bed. Naked,” he gasped between kisses and Derek laughed breathlessly, his hands already puling at the hem of Stiles’ shirt.

“It’s been forever but I still know how it goes,” he said, smirking when Stiles rolled his eyes at him, though his hands’ movements never stopped.

“ _Sassy_ Wolf _,”_ he grinned, laughing in surprise when Derek hooked his arms under his thighs and lifted him up, his gaze heated when his back hit their mattress, lifting up his hips obligingly so that Derek could pull his pants down.

“Best … Christmas … Gift … Ever,” Stiles moaned when Derek went straight for his erection, groaning when the werewolf swallowed around him.

“I can wrap a bow around it, if you want?” Derek suggested when he pulled off and Stiles shook his head jerkily.

“Less talking, more pounding. No bows,” he gasped and Derek stroked his fingers along Stiles’ trembling thighs with a grin before he slowly pushed down his sweats.

“No taking our sweet time?” he asked teasingly and Stiles bucked up his hips in protest.

“Are you kidding me? This opportunity might not arise again in _months_ and if you don’t get inside of me right the fuck now I swear I’ll …”

Whatever else he had planned to say was lost when Derek, who had grabbed a long-forgotten lube bottle from under the bed in the meantime, pushed his first finger inside gently but firmly.

“Yeah, more of that,” Stiles sighed, one hand flung over his eyes as Derek continued to work his fingers, his free hand slowly sliding up and down Stiles’ erection.

It took all of Derek’s self control to not come right after the first gentle thrust, his own thighs trembling now with the effort to keep his control and Stiles hooked his legs around him, pulling him in so that his erection was pressing against Derek’s belly.

“Way too long,” he whispered, nipping at Derek’s lower lip and Derek kissed back heatedly in agreement.

When he felt halfway in control again he continued moving, first slowly, giving Stiles time to adjust to the sensation, before his pace quickened and it really wasn’t all that long before he could feel his balls tighten, the orgasm rushing through him as he let out a low moan.

Stiles was still hard against him and Derek panted, resisting the urge to collapse on top of Stiles as he reached down one hand to wrap him up in his fingers once more, stroking with renewed vigor.

When Stiles came he threw his head back, arching his neck in a way that was too much for Derek to resist and he bit down gently, raking his teeth over the sensitive skin.

As Stiles’ breathing returned to normal Derek gently pulled out, rolling off of Stiles and curling around him instead and Stiles turned towards him with a blissful expression, fingers tapping against Derek’s own neck.

“Did you want to re-stake your mate-claim?” he asked softly and Derek nodded, smiling with satisfaction.

“Yep.”

Stiles shook his head with a contented smile.

“Are we ever going this long again without?”

“Nope,” Derek declared, closing his eyes as he nuzzled against Stiles’ chest.

“Are we going to start sexiling the kids again so we can actually make it last the next time?”

“Yep,” Derek said, punctuating it with a kiss.

Stiles intertwined their fingers on his chest, relaxing into the sensation of Derek’s warm breath gusting over his skin.

“Are you going to let me get up so I can get us cleaned off?”

“Nope.”

“Are you only going to speak in one-word sentences until the buzz has worn off?”

“Yep.”

“Are you … are you falling asleep on me right now and leaving me alone with the present wrapping?”

Derek’s answer was a soft snore and Stiles shook his head fondly.

The floor of their bedroom was still a mess, with wrapping paper, gift boxes, and bows lying everywhere, surrounding partially wrapped presents, but with Derek sleeping peacefully next to him Stiles simply couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Yawning himself he considered the options.

It wasn’t even 8 PM yet and Leonie had been instructed to make sure Noah went to bed after Cas had settled down, just in case Derek and Stiles took longer to wrap the gifts, so he didn’t see any harm in taking a quick nap while the opportunity presented itself.

As long as the babies stayed quiet Leonie would be able to entertain them on her own for a little while and Stiles had no illusions of sleeping through distressed wailing should the little ones suddenly be in desperate need of Daddy and Papa assistance.

Once he closed his eyes sleep came quickly, however, it was hardly more than half an hour before the familiar sound of crying jostled him awake.

Next to him Derek groaned, lifting his head off of Stiles’ chest with a grimace.

“Should we go rescue our son from the colicky screaming?” Stiles yawned and Derek nodded, slowly pushing himself up and rubbing his eyes with one hand as he grabbed for a pair of sweats with the other.

Stiles had just pulled over a shirt after doing a rather rudimentary job of cleaning up when the babies abruptly stopped crying.

The change had happened so suddenly that the silence ringing through the house was almost eerie and Stiles could see Derek twitch his nose, his expression growing alarmed.

“Ozone!” he exclaimed all of a sudden and before Stiles could even so much as pale at the implication of someone or something using magic in the house Derek had already wrenched the door open and bolted down the stairs.

Stiles quickly rushed after him, almost running into Leonie, who had rushed out of Cas’ room, her little brother on her hip and both of them looking as unsettled as their father.

When all four of them burst into the living room, however, none of them could have been prepared for the sight that greeted them.

There was no danger to be seen, no hideous warlock or a strange floating cloud.

Instead, Noah was still kneeling in front of the bouncers and his sisters were staring at him in rapt fascination, some residue tears forgotten on their cheeks.

“Noah-Boa!” Stiles whispered, his heartbeat still galloping, and Noah turned towards his daddy, grinning from ear to ear.

“Look Daddy! I _am_ magical after all!”

Stiles grasped Derek’s hand, squeezing it so tightly Derek winced.

“That’s one heck of a lot of magic!” he breathed and Derek nodded mutely, staring at the sparkling light figures that were dancing above the babies’ heads.

“I made one for each of us – I think they like them!” Noah explained excitedly and Stiles crouched down next to him, stretching out a hand wonderingly and laughing in surprise when the light figure that seemed to resemble him the most hopped onto his finger and twirled around before bouncing off again.

“How did you do that Noah?” Leonie asked, her expression both awed and the tiniest bit anxious and Noah shrugged, sounding almost casual when he replied, “I don’t know – I just thought about them.”

“One _heck_ of a lot of magic!” Stiles repeated, pulling out his cellphone to call Deaton.

“Good evening Mr. Stilinski,” Deaton said, when he picked up after the sixth ring, sounding a little like he had maybe had one eggnog too many but Stiles didn’t have time to ponder the unusual occurrence.

 “Noah just conjured little sparkling dancers out of thin air, we need help over here!” Stiles rushed out and Deaton made a delighted sound, hiccupping softly.

“That … hic … is really quite astonishing, though … hic … not unexpected!”

Stiles, who had been ready to describe the figures in all their glowing detail to figure out the danger lurking underneath the sparkly surface, sputtered.

“Excuse me … _what?_ ”

There was soft, decidedly female giggling on the other line and when a woman’s voice spoke into his ear Stiles almost dropped the phone.

“Ah, Mr. Stilinski, merry Christmas to you and yours! I’m not sure if you remember me, but my Coven and I came through town a couple of months ago? There was the unfortunate misunderstanding?” she chirped into the phone and Stiles’ eyes widened.

“ _Celeste_!” he exclaimed, looking towards his mate when Derek’s head snapped up, his expression bordering on outraged.

Celeste Burton, the Coven-leader of the hormonal pregnant witch who had swapped Stiles and Derek’s bodies for a week to make Stiles experience what it was like to be pregnant as a punishment in Derek’s third trimester, had obviously stayed in touch with their emissary after giving him her number and, based on the sounds Stiles could hear now, had apparently gotten to know him quite … well.

“The one and only,” the witch giggled, whispering an amused “ _Alan_!” as the noise Stiles could hear on the other end began to turn into suspicious smacking sounds.

“So, your boy has finally come into his powers then?” she asked and Stiles once again sputtered.

“Come into his … hold on, _what_?”

Celeste laughed.

“How wonderful! We could clearly sense the magical potential in him when we met him but after Seraphina’s little … uhm … outburst, we weren’t quite sure if our advice on how to train him would be well received so we decided to wait until he exhibited the first signs of magic. It is not unheard of; actually, your spark might not be all that developed, but combined with your mate’s werewolf DNA that little boy of yours has the potential to do powerful things in the future. You must be very proud of him.”

“He’s a _wizard_?” Stiles meeped, staring at Noah, who was looking quite delighted at the prospect and Celeste made a tut-tut sound.

“You have read too much _Harry Potter_ , that is not quite how it works. Your son has magical potential, but the degree to which he develops it when he grows older is entirely up to him. He will always be welcome to join our Coven, but with that life come a lot of responsibilities and restrictions that he might not want.”

She laughed again, apparently in response to something a tipsy Deaton had done.

“I’m sorry Stiles, I fear I am a bit too inebriated right now to explain this properly. I will be staying until the New Year, so if you and your mate would like me to meet with Noah to assess his magical potential we can definitely find a time and place, but for now just rest assured that there is nothing wrong with your little boy, this is all a normal part of growing into your magical nature.”

A rather loud moan reached Stiles’ ear and when Celeste spoke next she sounded out of breath.

“Wish we could talk longer but I have an … uhm … pressing prior engagement to attend to, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to let you go. Don’t worry about your son; he’s perfectly fine! Toodles!”

The line went dead and Stiles slowly lowered the phone, staring at Derek and then Noah with wide eyes.

“Did you catch all of that?” he asked slowly and Derek nodded with a grimace.

“More than I ever wanted, actually,” he muttered, before crouching down next to Noah.

“Are you ok Noah-Boa?” he asked, inspecting their son for any outwards signs of the magic having taken a toll on him and Noah nodded, looking between his Papa and Daddy in awe.

“Am I a wizard?” he asked, his voice excited and Stiles knelt down as well, staring at the light figures once again.

“Not quite yet Noah, but you are a little bit magical it seems,” he said softly, finding it hard to stay concerned as he was faced with Noah’s excited grin.

“Does that mean I can do werewolf things?” he asked and Derek looked at him carefully, unsure of what to make of the strange undertone in his son’s voice.

“Do you remember the witches that came by for the barbecue in the summer? Before Daddy and I changed bodies for a bit? The leader witch was on the phone with Daddy just now and she is going to come talk to you and us after Christmas. Until then you’ll have to promise me not to try anything magical, alright?” he said seriously and Noah shrugged, his expression contemplative.

“I don’t even know how I did this Papa, but I’ll try not to do it again until we talk to the witch,” he promised, giggling when one of the light-figures – Leonie, from what Derek could make out – danced over his head and tugged at his ear.

“I bet I will be able to do werewolf things one day,” he mumbled, more to himself than anyone else and Cas suddenly clapped his hands, looking delighted.

“Then you can race me!” he decided and Noah grinned, holding out his hand amicably when Cas held up his for a high-five.

“Or maybe I’ll finally win at Hide-and-Seek!” he corrected with a grin, a prospect that, if possible, seemed to excite Cas even more.

The light figures were still dancing across the room but they were dimming now, as Noah was concentrating on Cas and Leonie, who were bombarding him with questions.

With their older children firmly preoccupied Stiles and Derek turned towards the babies, each of them lifting one out of her bouncer.

“What does it say about our life that I’ve already gotten used to this revelation, even though I was ready to have an aneurism five minutes ago?” Stiles mused as he tickled Maggie’s belly and Derek shook his head with a resigned laugh.

“Do you remember Leonie’s reaction when we told her Noah was human? She said he can be ‘magic like Daddy’ but I have to admit, I never expected that to actually happen!”

Stiles chuckled weakly, his expression growing long-suffering as he looked down at their human baby girl.

“What’s next? Are you going to turn into a mermaid when you hit puberty?” he asked, moving to tickle Maggie’s feet and Derek snorted.

“A _mermaid_?” he sniffed and Stiles shrugged.

“Who knows what kind of other mystical creatures are hidden in our combined genetic material,” he said matter of factly, looking back at Maggie with a pleading expression.

“Alright baby-girl, here’s the deal. You can be a mermaid if you want, but you can’t go out into the ocean. Daddy’s going to build you a pond in the backyard and you can splash around in there all day, but you are not going anywhere where there’s sharks. This is non-negotiable, I’m sorry,” he informed her, grinning at Derek when his mate laughed loudly, a curious looking Kara snuggled into his arms.

“She’ll love that, I’m sure,” he said, his eyes soft as he looked at his mate.

“Or she could turn out to be a perfect human, just like her daddy.”

Stiles shook his head with a snort.

“Nah, she can have some flaws, that’ll be fine with me but again, mark my words, if she _does_ turn into a mermaid I’m building that pond!”

“I’ll help,” Derek promised solemnly and Stiles stuck his tongue out at him briefly, a grin lighting up his face.

“Hey Daddy?” Cas’ voice suddenly rang out and when both fathers turned towards him their younger son looked confused.

“Yes Cas?” Stiles asked and Cas frowned.

“Why did Uncle Alan sound like he was in pain on the phone? Was the witch mean to him?”

Stiles gaped at him.

“Uhm … _hey_ , you guys, want to open presents right now while it’s still Christmas Eve? They do that in Europe!”

“Presents!” Cas cried gleefully, inquiries about Deaton’s moaning completely forgotten.

Derek turned towards his mate with a questioning expression.

“We haven’t even _wrapped_ half of them yet,” he mouthed at Stiles, sounding somewhat nonplussed and Stiles held up his hands in surrender.

“Do you want to give the sex-talk to our five-year old instead?” he mouthed back, laughing loudly when Derek exclaimed, “Presents!” quickly.

The children, it turned out, didn’t mind the unwrapped state of their gifts at all.

 

==================

_8 Months Later_

“Go Noah go!” Stiles yelled loudly, once again jumping up in excitement when Noah started running towards the goal, dancing around the other team’s defense more skillfully than Stiles had ever been able to do.

“Babe …” Derek groaned, tugging at his sleeve to pull him back down and Stiles raised his eyebrows at his mate, refusing to surrender his cheering position.

He had, admittedly, been jumping up every couple of minutes ever since the beginning of the game, unable to sit still for one second while Noah was in possession of the ball, but unlike Derek, who had been trying to stare down all the complaining spectators around them, Stiles couldn’t have cared less what the other parents thought of him.

“Hale! Hale! Hale!” Stiles chanted, completely unbothered by Derek’s continued attempts to pull him down and when Noah came into goal-hitting distance he grabbed Derek’s hair, pulling it so his husband was actually looking into their son’s direction instead of worrying about the others, making sure that Derek didn’t miss the goal.

One second Derek had been sitting, the next he was standing right next to Stiles, his arms raised into the air in triumph and beaming from ear to ear as he yelled, “That’s my son!” triumphantly, his cheeks glowing red immediately after when his more reserved self caught up with the excitement of the moment.

Stiles threw his head back and started laughing, one arm flung around Derek’s shoulders as he pulled the older man closer.

“You hypocrite!” he grinned and Derek looked very sheepish for all of five seconds before he turned back to the field and continued cheering for their oldest son, who was currently being swept up into a bear hug by Mikey McCall, who had joined the team shortly after Noah.

The babies were staring up at him with wide eyes, clearly not used to this side of their Papa and Stiles beamed at Maggie, who was sitting on Cas’ lap and seemed somewhat skeptical of the situation.

Kara, meanwhile, was waving her arms enthusiastically, almost bouncing out of Leonie’s arms and resembling her human daddy more than ever in her attempts to join in the celebration.

They would always be Stiles’ babies but with their first birthday approaching in five days they were quickly turning into toddlers, with Maggie taking wobbly steps and Kara crawling faster than the Flash.

A big part of Stiles knew that he would dearly miss having a baby in the house, but as his gaze swept over Cas, then Leonie, and then Noah, who was standing on the field now and grinning from ear to ear, he realized that he couldn’t wait to get to know Kara and Maggie’s personalities as well, the little quirks and qualities that made them unique and special.

He wondered if Kara, who looked almost exactly like Noah had at this age and was clearly going to grow up to become a female version of Stiles, would inherit his sarcastic, dry-witted attitude or if she would be more like Derek, quiet and reserved but with warmth and occasional glints of deviousness shining out of her eyes.

Then there was Maggie, his second human child, who had inherited Derek’s skin tone and Stiles’ eye-shape but otherwise looked like no one else in the family, and Stiles was looking forward to seeing her grow into her own, somehow certain that – now that a very judgmental Deaton had finally confirmed that mermaid-genes did not run in werewolf families – his baby girl would rock being human just fine.

His gaze swept towards Cas and Leonie, who were cheering for their brother just as enthusiastically as their father, each holding a squealing baby – toddler, they were almost toddlers now – on their hip.

Cas had embraced track practice – and his new best friend Billy Finstock – like a drowning man clinging to a lifeline and even though Stilinski family heirlooms still got broken in their house on occasion, Stiles had decided months ago that until their youngest son was old enough to shift properly and find his anchor, his Grandma Stilinski would just have to accept that a certain degree of hyperactivity simply ran in the family, werewolf genes or not.

Leonie, meanwhile, had just turned 13 two months ago and as he looked at their oldest cheering, her eyes sparkling and her smile almost impossibly wide, Stiles wondered if his daughter’s future suitors would ever appreciate how lucky they were that Derek was so adamantly against keeping guns in the house.

Granted, he was ready for the puberty phase to be over like yesterday, but at the end of the day it was perfectly normal for the parental growing pains process.

Smiling proudly, Stiles turned back towards the field, where Noah was now jogging back into position.

His near look-alike oldest son hadn’t exhibited more magical capabilities in a while, for which Stiles was secretly thankful, too afraid of the havoc they could wreak while Noah was still too young to fully control them, but Celeste’s examination had left no doubt that under the right training and with proper incentive their son had potential to become quite a force to be reckoned with in the supernatural world one day.

Considering he was the son of parents who occasionally attracted supernatural complications like flies, Stiles and Derek both saw it as an invaluable asset.

Right now, however, he was just a normal little boy, who loved playing lacrosse, reading books, and playing with his siblings.

As he observed the joy sparkling in his son’s eyes Stiles wanted to freeze this moment in time forever, keep them all careless, happy, and safe.

Derek nudged against him, apparently having sensed the shift in his mood and Stiles smiled at him, leaning over to kiss him softly.

The babies had been sleeping through the night for two months now and life, all things considered, was pretty darn awesome.

 

**Author's Note:**

> PSA: I actually do have a friend who screamed himself into a visible umbilical hernia at three months old while being colicky and completely freaked his parents out, so to those of you who do not have children, I didn't make it up. It's usually not life-threatening, but it does happen.
> 
>  
> 
> In 'Verse-News: someone called me the Queen of Foreshadowing in a comment once and I must say I rather liked it, so of course there is quite a bit of foreshadowing in here as well.
> 
> To those of you who are wondering: I will say in advance that I am not planning on making Noah a powerful super-mage in the future, since I feel that would be too much of a cop-out after all that only-human-child angst. However, I definitely have a story lined up in which his magical abilities play an important role.
> 
> An important note about Derek's conversation with Leonie about loving children that aren't biologically your own: I know enough patchwork families (and families who have adopted) to know that this can be a really sensitive issue and I wanted to test the waters a little with putting it in here, because the more I thought about the Jackson/Aiden story I have planned, the more I realized that I'm going to have to address this issue and based on how I have written the members of the Whittemore family so far there is bound to be some drama on that particular journey. I'll have to think some more about how I actually want to do this, but for now, dear readers, I hope no one was offended. 
> 
> Lastly, I have a sneaky authorial-prompt question for you guys: who would you like to see/who do you think is most likely to produce the first grandchild for Derek and Stiles?  
> I have been unable to decide between two story lines for months now and so I figured I'd get your input before I make my final decision. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!


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